


Incomprehensible

by AutisticWriter



Series: Autistic Headcanons [37]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Ableism, Autism, Autism Spectrum, Autistic Doctor, Autistic Second Doctor, Confusion, Dyspraxia, Dyspraxic Second Doctor, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gift Fic, Happy Ending, Kissing, Love, One Shot, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sensory problems, Stimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 23:37:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11023968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutisticWriter/pseuds/AutisticWriter
Summary: The Doctor’s bad handwriting becomes a source of confusion.





	Incomprehensible

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pearlislove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearlislove/gifts).



> Written for Pearlislove, who also thinks there needs to be more representation of dyspraxia, and gave me the following prompt:
> 
> The Doctor writes a note for Jamie, but Jamie thinks it's in another language the TARDIS is not translating because of the doctor's poor handwriting - what happens from there is kind of up to you
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

The Doctor wasn’t the most organised person. The TARDIS was a mess, with stuff piled everywhere, cupboards stuffed with random things and great stacks of books in the corners of most rooms. It was common to find something you were looking for weeks ago completely by accident, whilst other things seemed to vanish, never to be seen again.

Though it made sense that the TARDIS was so messy, given whom it belonged to. The Doctor was so scruffy that he fitted in well with the general mess of his home. Jamie wasn’t sure why the Doctor always looked so scruffy, but he supposed that the Doctor just didn’t like smart clothes. Maybe it was part of his sensory issues, and loose, baggy clothes were more comfortable.

True to his messy TARDIS, the Doctor had a habit of leaving important things lying around where anyone could break them. One morning, Jamie found the Doctor’s recorder on the floor in the control room, where anyone could tread on it. Sighing, he picked it up and went to give it back to the Doctor, knowing he got worried when he lost his recorder. But he couldn’t find the Doctor anywhere.

Confused, he rushed back into the control room, and switched on the view screen. Sure enough, the TARDIS had landed. Had the Doctor gone outside and left him here? And why didn’t he tell him he had gone? He could get into all sorts of trouble on his own.

Jamie sighed again, and was about to open the TARDIS doors when he found a piece of paper stuck to the button. He unstuck it, and realised it was covered in writing. The Doctor must have left him a note.

He tried to decipher the note, but he couldn’t make any sense of it. It didn’t seem to be in any language Jamie had ever read, the words scrawled and cramped to the point he couldn’t tell the letters apart. Not that he would have understood it even if they weren’t, because this surely wasn’t written in a language Jamie was aware of.

In an attempt to understand what the note said, Jamie inserted it into the control panel and hit the **TRANSLATE INTO ENGLISH** button. But the TARDIS was no help. Apparently, the TARDIS didn’t have this language in its databank. To put it simply, Jamie was very confused.

The Doctor was going to have a lot of explaining to do when he got back.

\---

After two hours, the Doctor appeared. He walked into the TARDIS like nothing was wrong, and jumped when Jamie said, “Where have you been?”

The Doctor grinned, but the smile slid from his face when he realised Jamie wasn’t joking. “I’ve been out. Didn’t you read my note?”

“I tried to,” Jamie said, helping the Doctor take his huge fur coat off (the Doctor often struggled to do it himself).

“What do you mean? Jamie... Are you all right?”

“I was worried about you,” he said. “I found your note but I couldn’t understand it, so I didn’t know where you were or when you’d be back.”

“You couldn’t understand it?” the Doctor said, puzzled. “But... I wrote it in English. Look, I’ll read it to you.” The Doctor took the note from Jamie and began to read it aloud. “It says: ‘Jamie, I’ve gone to explore the surrounding area. I should be back in a few hours. See you later. The Doctor.’” He looked at Jamie, frowning slightly. “Can’t you read it?”

“No, and the TARDIS couldn’t either. Is that really English?”

The Doctor nodded, bowing his head. “Yes, it is.”

Sighing, the Doctor trailed off into their bedroom. As Jamie followed after him, the Doctor bumped into the doorway before sinking onto the bed. Jamie sat down beside him, confused and concerned to find the Doctor suddenly looking a wee bit sad.

“Are you all right, Doctor?” he asked.

“Of course I am, Jamie,” the Doctor said. He smiled, but he was wringing his hands together and looked rather tense.

“You’re not, are you?”

The Doctor smiled weakly. “No, not really.”

Jamie put his arm around the Doctor’s shoulders, and the Doctor leaned against him, letting out a shuddering sigh.

“Did I upset you?”

“No, you didn’t do anything, Jamie,” the Doctor said, his voice surprisingly firm. “I just didn’t realise that my handwriting was still so poor.”

“Why is it so messy, Doctor?” he asked.

“It’s caused by one of my neurodivergences. You know how I’m autistic and that I have PTSD?”

“Aye.”

“Well, since I regenerated, I also have a condition called dyspraxia.”

“What’s that?” Jamie asked.

“Well, it’s similar to autism in that it’s a disability that affects how your brain works. We Time Lords can develop developmental disabilities after we regenerate because our brains get totally scrambled in the process, meaning we can develop them as our brains develop after the regeneration. It is very co-morbid with autism, but you don’t have to be autistic to have dyspraxia. It is also called Developmental Coordination Disorder, because it affects your fine and gross coordination. For me, it means I really struggle with my handwriting and I trip and walk into things a lot. I’ve been trying to improve my handwriting, but it obviously isn’t working.” The Doctor smiled weakly. “Sorry. That was a bit of an infodump, wasn’t it?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jamie said. “It was interesting. And it explains a lot.”

“Does it?”

“Aye, it does. It explains why you’re always bumping into things. How come you haven’t told me before?”

The Doctor shrugged his shoulders. “I guess I still haven’t quite got over the thinking that being disabled is a bad thing.”

Jamie knew what he meant. After all, the Doctor had grown up in a society that basically hated people who were different. It was depressing to think about, but it made perfect sense that the Doctor still worried about what they had said to him.

“But it isn’t.”

The Doctor smiled. “No, it definitely isn’t.”

“And you don’t have to worry about me. I love you, Doctor, and I’ll never, ever hurt you.”

“Thank you, Jamie,” the Doctor said, his eyes shining. “I think I might type things from now on, just to make it easier for both of us.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

“I love you, Jamie,” the Doctor said, and he kissed him.

“I love you too.”


End file.
